


we don't know where we're going (but we know where we belong)

by imdepresssedd



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Boys Kissing, Fluff, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Requited Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 07:09:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20523995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imdepresssedd/pseuds/imdepresssedd
Summary: “You fucking read it, didn't you?”“Just a bit. You've written way too much and I'm not a very quick reader. What I've read from it so far, though, is pretty good if I do say so myself.” Alex swears his heart isn't beating. “Your muse is pretty great, not gonna lie."





	we don't know where we're going (but we know where we belong)

**Author's Note:**

> this is,. KIND of loosely based off of something that happened to me lol (obviously I didn't get the happy ending but Whatever) where someone I liked and had written about in my journal/diary/whatever you wanna call it ended up seeing some of the stuff I wrote hahahahahahhaha yeah lucky for me this was like the end of year 11 and they ended going to college instead of staying at sixth form SO I never saw them again anyway *wipes sweat off forehead* why am I even sharing this. it's like 3am bye
> 
> I promise you the title has literally NOTHING to do with the fic looool pls cut me some slack it's 3am

It's raining again.

Alex is curled up in the living room, legs bent at the knees, earphones plugged in. He's writing in his notebook (he can't call it a 'journal' anymore, not after the way Will absolutely rinsed him for it the last time he did); rhymes, one liners, random thoughts, anything that comes to mind.

In all honesty, it's the most at peace he's felt all week. As it usually is when he's home alone.

Without warning - and, speaking of the devil - Will comes stomping through the front door, the heavy black boots he'd opted on wearing making the whole ordeal much louder and messier than it needed to be - because now the floor by the door is all damp and muddy.

"Fuckin' sick of all this fuckin' _ rain. _” He seethes. His hair is damp and his cheeks are a bright, bright red.

By now only one earphone is still plugged in Alex's ear, the other hanging out. He can't help the fond smile that stretches across his face as he watches Will all but kick the boots off his feet, proceeding to glare at them menacingly as though they'd personally wronged him somehow. Alex snorts.

Will’s head snaps up at the sound, the icy glare now directed at him instead and it probably shouldn't be funny at all but it really, really is.

“Shut up, you.”

The next sound Alex releases is a wheeze, because suddenly Will is speed walking towards the sofa and bouncing on top of him. Thankfully he wasn't holding a mug, because he knows for a fact that wouldn't have stopped him for a second.

Alex groans. “Get off me, fat cunt. You're crushing me.” It's half true, but if Will’s elbow wasn't digging painfully into his stomach, it'd be lovely. He loves cuddles, from Will especially (though he'd never let him know that, his ego is bursting at the seams as it is).

For once, the boy actually listens, shifting a little so he's still draped over Alex but more comfortably for the both of them. He sighs into Alex's neck. "Weather's fucking shite."

"Told you to take an umbrella. Or at least a coat with a hoodie or something." He sits up a little so his back is a bit more upright and Will is curled against his chest. “You didn't listen.”

Will groans. “Shut up. My very reliable top notch BBC weather app told me rain was unlikely today. Who was I gonna trust - _ you, _ or the BBC?”

“Well, look where choosing the BBC landed you, then."

“Shut up.”

He shifts a bit more, just so that he can open up his journal notebook again and pick up where he left off. Tyler Joseph's vocals can still faintly be heard through the earphone’s tiny speakers, and Will’s head is laying on his chest, distinctly smelling of the rain that's still steadily pelting down outside. Alex is so inspired.

So he writes. About grey skylines and shiny dark clouds; about sitting on damp grass and wishing on small dandelions. About kissing. In the _ rain _ \- something he's secretly always wanted to do, as overdone and cheesy as it may be.

He inevitably finds himself writing about bitten pink lips and a smooth voice, paying no mind to the fact that they happened to belong to the boy laying against him right now. Will looks up, smiling teasingly. "What you writin' about?”

_ You. I'm writing about you. _ “Nothing important.”

Will snorts. There's a short pause before he softly sighs, cuddling back against Alex's chest. “Alright, weirdo."

Alex rolls his eyes, flicking him hard on the ear and basking in his moan of pain.

It should be pretty terrifying - wanting to kiss your roommate and best friend. But at this particular moment in time Alex can't bring himself to dwell on his own doom.

/

The journal is bright pink, the words _ Alex Elmslie _ written in big letters across the front. Usually he can spot it a mile away. But for some reason he can't seem to find it bloody _ anywhere _this morning, and his whole life is continuously flashing before his eyes.

He's frantic; he can hear his pulse in his ears and his hands are shaking. If someone were to find it before him - if someone were to _read it _\- he was well and truly done for.

_ Especially _ if that someone is Will. The amount of shit (read: the amount of _ gay _ shit) he's written about Will in there is goddamn near infinite. And it's not like Will is just this anonymous _ mystery _figure that Alex refers to every now and again - he mentions Will's name in it, explicitly, multiple times.

He can't have him reading a word of that journal. He's for sure got a girlfriend now, and his and Alex's friendship is too good to screw up like this.

He's on edge all day, looking for it in the most random of places - behind the fridge, inside the washing machine, underneath both of their beds. He begins to think that maybe the fucking Bermuda triangle has relocated itself to London and sucked it away.

He hates that he has to go to classes and get on with everyday errands as if his life isn't basically falling apart at the seams.

He debates texting Will, asking him if he's seen it anywhere, but quickly shuts down the dumb idea. If he lets Will know he's lost it, he may end up looking for it too, and Will finding it before he does is a recipe for disaster.

/

The disaster seems to have already been cooked and well done by the time Alex is back at the apartment.

Will is sat on Alex's bed, cheeky smirk on his face, eyes dancing with his usual mischief and - fuck, there it is - _ Alex’s journal _in his hand. "Looking for somethin', Al?"

Alex can't speak, can't sort through his thoughts fast enough to form a coherent phrase. A million terrible scenarios are playing out in his head. Did Will read it? Did he laugh at him? Think he's absolutely pathetic? Did he take pictures and send them to George and James and Fraser so they could all laugh at how utterly pathetic and ridiculous he is?

Suddenly Alex is so angry he can't even see straight. Of _ course _Will read it. Why wouldn't he have? He's always been curious about what Alex writes in it; he's always asking and Alex is always brushing him off. Of course he'd jump at an opportunity to sneak a peek inside it. He's Will, for fucks sake, of course he would.

“What the fuck, Will?” he tries to curb the hurt from his voice, tries to keep it even and angry, because _ God, _he is so fucking angry right now.

Will’s composure seems to falter a fraction - Alex is never _ this _ angry with him, and he's done arguably worse than this - but he doesn't let up completely, smirk still firmly in place. “Hey, where's my thanks? Finding your little diary and all, I think I at least deserve _ some _gratitude.”

_ “Journal. _ And you fucking read it, didn't you?” He can't help it when his voice cracks. God. _ He's fucking read it. _He knows. He has to know because he has to have read it. He knows how Alex feels about him and he has the nerve to sit there like it's just another day.

“Just a bit. You've written way too much and I'm not a very quick reader. What I've read from it so far, though, is pretty good if I do say so myself.” Alex swears his heart isn't beating. “Your muse is pretty great, not gonna lie."

“Fuck you." He spits, immediately spinning on his heel and storming out of the room.

He never got to see Will's reaction, or hear what else he might've had to say, because he's out of the apartment in a matter of seconds. Fresh tears are already starting to cascade down his face. He doesn't care that he's being dramatic. A person he loves and trusts so much invaded his privacy like he meant absolutely _ nothing _to him and he has every right to be as dramatic as he wants.

He texts Fraser, telling him he's coming over soon. Then he pockets his phone and begins making his way over, sobbing and sniffing all the way there.

/

It's around 2am when Alex gets back. Will stopped spamming him with texts hours ago, so he assumes he's gone to bed. He hopes so, at least; he still doesn't feel ready to face him just yet.

When he walks into his room, the first thing he sees is his journal, set down neatly in the middle of his bed. There's a pink post-it-note stuck to the front, Will's familiar handwriting scrawled across it. Alex frowns. _ What? _

**read it.**

His frown deepens as he sits down at the corner of his bed. What does he mean by _ read it? _It's his own journal, why would he need to read it?

He does it anyway, too curious not to, opening it up and skimming over a few pages before they catch his eye - words written in a different colour, the handwriting distinctly belonging to Will again. He's annotated something Alex had written down, he notices - it's what Alex had written when he first realised he liked Will. When he was scared and full of anxiety but also giddy and full of excitement.

_ 15th January, 2019 _

<strike>_I think_ _I might_</strike> _ I like Will now. I know I shouldn't, because we live together and he's my best friend and he's so straight it actually hurts. But I do. I like Will._

He remembers leaving it at that, because it scared the living daylights out of him then. Writing it down made it feel real.

Will's drawn a dodgy looking arrow that points at the date of the entry, and right next to that he's written, in big, red letters: **I liked you waaay before this, mate.**

Alex's heart stops. _ What? _

He flips the page again, looking around for more signs of Will's messy red writing. There it is again.

_ 19th January, 2019 _

_ Will's really pretty, especially when he's happy. He gets all cute and smiley and he laughs so big and loud, like he doesn't care who's listening, and I love that about him. I love everything about him. His face, his smile, his laugh, his eyes. The way he makes me laugh when it's the last thing on my mind, and how happy he gets when he does it. _

Alex cringes when he rereads the small entry. He never stopped to take in just how utterly year 9 like he sounded in all of these. But, right underneath it, Will's written his own cheese -

**I can tell when you're sad and I can't stand it, and because I'm so shit at trying to make things better I just make you laugh.**

Alex's heart pounds. He keeps flipping through, rereading his own cringey passages and then whatever Will's written underneath or next to them, his barely straight arrows indicating whatever it is he's responding to. And if a page has been completely filled with words, there's a pink post-it stuck on it instead, Will's big writing and badly drawn doodles all over it.

_ 22nd January, 2019 _

_ He did it today - he made me laugh when all I wanted to do was cry. And then he hugged me, as if he knew how much I needed it. I don't deserve him. _

**shut up, loser, you deserve the world.**

_ 23rd January, 2019 _

<strike>_I think_ _I think I might_ _maybe I_</strike> _ I love Will._

**I loved you too, you melt. Still do.**

_ 16th February, 2019 _

_ I think Will might have a girlfriend now, I don't know for sure. I shouldn't care. I've always known he's straight so it shouldn't matter. But it does matter and I do care. _

**she was never my girlfriend idiot. and stop assuming my sexuality goddamn**

_ 27th February, 2019 _

_ I'm an idiot. _

**fair enough.**

_ 28th February, 2019 _

_ I wish I didn't love Will. Everything would be so much easier. _

**well alright then I see how it is mister.**

_ 6th March, 2019 _

_ We went out for lunch today, just me and Will. I thought he'd invited George and another one of his mates as well, but it was only us. I know it means nothing and I'm stupid for even saying this but it still felt so real. He didn't let me pay for anything, the sneaky fucker paid while I was in the bathroom even though we're both skint right now and should've split it. _ <strike>_ He's an angel. _</strike>

**what'd you cross out me being an angel for?? smh**

_ 21st March, 2019 _

_ I'm definitely gonna need to get over Will. It's not fair to him. And it's not like it's ever gonna happen, even if Will does turn out to be gay or bi or anything like that, that doesn't mean he'd like me. It's hopeless. _

**that's funny, because I do like you. ** **and you better not have gotten over me because I'll be livid if you have.**

Alex is sat there for ages, turning page over page over page and reading every last word Will has put down. He can't help feeling like it's all a big prank, another one of Will's stupid practical jokes that never end well for Alex. But this would be too far, even for Will.

There's another post-it, stuck to a blank page, this one purple instead of pink. It reads: **go to the last page. also sorry, ran out of pink ones :(**

He does as he's told, flipping to the very last page. And lo and behold, practically an entire monologue has been left there for him. It's messy and all over the place and even on the lined paper Will has still managed to stray off; he must've been nervous, and understandably so.

**alex,**

**maybe I'm just great at hiding my emotions, but I thought it was obvious how much I liked you from the beginning. you're always writing in this fucking ** <strike>**diary**</strike> ** journal of yours, and you get this little blush on your face every time and you smile all shy and cute and I still see it even though you try and hide it. you get so consumed by it, like there's nothing else in the room but you and the paper and the pen, and it made me wonder what you were writing about.**

**I wanted you to look at me like that, give me that sort of attention, and that's what made me realise I love you. I love everything about you, your face and your voice and the fact that you laugh at my shite jokes. even the fact that you never shut the fuck up. I can't even tell you how many times I've wanted to just kiss you silly to stop your waffling.**

**nothing in the world makes me happier than getting back to the apartment and seeing you all curled up in front of the tv waiting. you've always got this fucking book with you, I'm shocked you've not filled every page just yet, and I always wondered if you ever wrote about me in there. I guess you have, but I shouldn't have found out the way that I did.**

**since I'm a massive twat who's gone and read your secret mushy feelings about me, it's only fair that you get to read my secret mushy feelings about you. I'm not great at being mushy because I'm not a virgin but I tried, for you. and I want you to come to me right after you've read this so I can tell you in person how much of a prick I am and how much I love you.**

**love, will**

Alex hates to admit that there are tears in his eyes by the time he's read to the end. A significant amount of the anger he'd been feeling all night has dissolved into relief; elation.

He wants to run to Will's room, hear him say those 3 words out loud because right now they're only down in written form. Not yet as tangible as they could be.

He tip toes even though he's 100% sure Will's awake, and knocks even though he's used to just barging in. The door opens to reveal Will right away, almost as if he was standing right there, waiting. And maybe he was.

His expression is drawn tight. His eyes are bloodshot, as if he'd been crying. It's the first time, Alex realises, that Will looks _ this _ genuinely sorry for something he did. Words are rushing out of him before Alex even has the chance to speak. "I'm so sorry, Alex. You're so lovely - all those things you wrote, you're so fucking lovely and I fucking hurt you. You've no fucking clue how shit I feel I'm seriously never gonna fucking forgive myself fo - ”

“Have you ever gone a single day without saying the f word? _ Have you?” _

He expects Will to laugh. Snort. Roll his eyes. Tell him to shut up. Possibly all the above. But, nothing.

“I'm just - I'm sorry. I've never been more sorry about anything, I'm so so s - ”

Will isn't the only one who's always wanted to shut Alex up with a kiss. So that's exactly what Alex does. For a solid 5 seconds, nothing happens, just their lips pressed against each others - but then they're both sinking into it, and it's the best kiss Alex has ever had.

Will is breathing hard when they pull apart, eyes wide like he can't believe it. “You're so fuckin' pretty. So soft and pretty,” he whispers, more to himself than anyone, and it makes Alex redden. “I always want you. Always wanted you."

“Will.”

“I'm serious, I promise. I shouldn't have done it, shouldn't have read it. I just - I'm an idiot - ”

_ “Stop.” _Alex laughs. “It's alright. I forgive you.”

Will pauses, eyes scanning Alex's face before shaking his head slowly. “I don't deserve you.”

Then they're kissing again, finally moving away from Will's bedroom doorway and shutting the door behind them. And then Alex is laying on his back with Will on top of him, kissing him into the mattress. When Will pulls away, it's just so he can look at him directly and say, “I love you.”

Even though he knows it by now, Alex's chest still swells, bliss lighting up his veins. "I love you, too."

"Even though I'm a prick?" his eyes dart back and forth between Alex's, occasionally going down to his lips, like he's waiting for an answer so he can kiss him again. Alex gives him one.

"Even though you're a prick," he nods, lips back on Will's before anyone can get another word in. It must be 3 in the morning now, but Alex has never felt more awake and alive. He can't even remember whether or not he's got classes tomorrow, but he can't bring himself to care. Not right now. That's future Alex's problem.

When Will pulls away again, it's to say, "Sorry for defacing your journal, by the way."

**Author's Note:**

> since it's like 3am I'm definitely gonna regret posting this when I wake up like this is such a Strange concept and would never happen irl but that's why we write fanfic ladies and gents xD


End file.
